


Look, Don't Touch

by PhantomWriterAnon



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Loki, Drunken Incidents, Everyone Wants Loki, Jealous Tony Stark, Jealousy, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki is amused, M/M, Tony is not amused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriterAnon/pseuds/PhantomWriterAnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Pietro learns the hard way that Loki is Tony's... and Tony learns that Loki can handle himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look, Don't Touch

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first un-prompted Loki fic, and I'd love any and all feedback on my characterization! I really tried not to make him too OOC, but we'll see...

Tony glowered at the silver-haired speedster, hoping against hope that he'd suddenly develop heat vision and burn two holes straight through the teen's back. Who the hell did he think he was, anyway, to be shooting Loki that pitiful 'fuck me' look? And, more importantly,  _why was Loki allowing it?_

Granted, Loki wasn't paying the teen much mind at all. He was completely enthralled with his novel, and had been for the better part of the half-hour that Pietro had been gracing him with his bedroom eyes. Tony wondered how the god of mischief couldn't  _feel_ those eyes boring into him... after all, it wasn't like Pietro was making any attempt to hide what he was doing. Surely, Loki had to have noticed by now... right?

As if to answer Tony's unspoken question, Loki set the book on his lap and leisurely stretched himself out, his moss-green tank top riding high on his midsection and revealing more skin than Tony was comfortable with. The boy's jaw practically dropped to the floor, and Tony was tempted to go over and clamp it shut with a warning about catching flies. Loki settled back down, oblivious. Tony tightened his grip around the coffee mug in his hand, oblivious to the way the scalding hot glass burned his hand. 

Crossing the room in quick strides, he forcefully shoved the tea at his lover. Loki raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Something wrong, Son of Stark?"

What the hell? Was he  _choosing_ to be daft? Tony knew that Loki had to have seen the looks Pietro was giving him. "No, of course not."

"Really?" Loki took the tea, taking an experimental sip. "Because I didn't realize it took half an hour to make a cup of tea. Was boiling water and pouring it over a tea bag too difficult of a task for you?" 

The normally light banter struck a particularly sensitive nerve when Tony heard Pietro snicker softly behind him. Tony sucked in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that starting a fight with Loki was a losing effort. Loki was a master wordsmith, and in addition to that, regardless of the winner, a fight almost guaranteed no sex for a week. Sometimes, if Loki was feeling particularly heartless, he'd stretch out Tony's celibacy to three weeks or more. 

Because he knew that Tony would never dream of going around behind his back. Not only did he love Loki much too much to hurt him in such a way, but he knew that the god would  _kill_ him if he so much as  _thought_ about cheating... and then resurrect him, just to kill him again. Loki had some particularly violent tendencies. 

But as much as he hated to admit it, Loki entertaining the brat's pitiable attempts to get in his pants had him questioning if the sentiment was returned.

Loki twirled his hand over the mug, and three sugar cubes appeared and dropped into the cup. "I forgot, I absolutely detest your tea." His nose scrunched up in distaste. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you slipped poison in here."

Tony scowled, opening his mouth to offer a biting reply, when Pietro came forward and shoved him aside rather unceremoniously. "You shouldn't have to drink that disgusting thing. I'm sure I could make you something much better."

Loki smirked, silently sizing the boy up.  _This could be interesting_. "Do you think so?"

"I  _know_ so." He responded cockily. "After all, a pretty thing like you deserves only the best."

If humanly possible, there probably would've been smoke pouring out of Tony's ears right now. He'd made the tea the same way he always did, specifically the way Loki  _claimed_ to like it. He was only making a production of it now because he enjoyed the attention the brat was giving him!

Loki, seeing this all play out across Tony's face, laughed. Returning to his book, he remarked lightly, "Tony, your little green rage monster is showing."

"I guess I just won't make you tea anymore." Tony tried to play it off, not wanting Loki to see how much this was really bothering him. "One less thing for me to worry about."

When the speedster returned, cup of steaming hot tea in hand, Tony secretly hoped it was so vile Loki choked. That would stop the kid in his tracks. But when Loki took that first sip, his perfect lips settling into a perfect smile, Tony knew that that wasn't the case. Loki downed the mug in three considerable swallows, before handing off the mug and requesting the boy go make him more. The smile on Pietro's face only made Tony hate him more. _  
_

"Son of Stark," Loki settled down, resuming his novel with earnest. "I do believe you have been replaced."

Tony frowned, shoulders sagging a bit. He tried not to let Loki see. "I can see that."

* * *

Perhaps, if it had been an isolated incident, it wouldn't have bothered Tony so much. But now, two weeks since what he'd come to call the 'tea incident', Loki and Pietro seemed to only be getting closer... while Loki and Tony seemed to be drifting further and further apart. Being the sole recipient of Loki's attention had given Pietro an inflated sense of self-confidence, which only seemed to make him all the more unbearable. 

Tony was abso-fucking-lutely  _miserable_. Not that Loki was paying enough attention to him to really notice, one way or the other. 

"Son of Stark!" Thor slammed his mug down on the counter, froth spilling messily over the rim. "Your pitiful countenance is ruining the festivities! The host should not be so miserable!" As he said this, he shoved a mug into Tony's reluctant hand. "Drink! And be merry!"

Steve, considerably calmer (and sober), took this moment to gently pry Tony's hand off of the drink. "You know how Loki feels about your drinking. I don't particularly want to be caught in the aftermath when he finds you with glass in hand, so I'll be taking this."

Tony looked less than impressed. "And why would he care? He's much too busy mentally undressing Pietro to care what I'm doing."

"What are you talking about? Loki -," Steve was cut off by a hand on his shoulder. 

"Don't make a scene. Just evacuate the party very... slowly..." she looked over her shoulder, her whispered words completely overtaken by what sounded like an explosion.

Tony frowned. "Why is it that every time I throw a party, my fucking house gets destroyed?" Smoke filled the room, accompanied by the panicked screams of terrified party-goers. As if on cue, completely killing the party mood, the sprinklers came on to tame a non-existent fire. This only seemed to increase the panic.

Tony, in the confusion, had managed to grab his drink back from Steve, and had begun drinking when Natasha replied, "Maybe because a certain drunken speedster just tried to cop a feel on a very irritable god of mischief."

Tony promptly spit his drink back up on Steve, who looked at him in disgust and resignation. He was suddenly plagued with a surge of particularly violent thoughts, his hatred for the brat growing tenfold in the span of mere seconds. It was Steve that came up with the brilliant idea to hold him back before he stormed over and did something he'd seriously regret (if only because it landed him in jail) come morning. 

Because, as the smoke cleared to show the room practically deserted, it was quite clear that Loki was handling himself just fine. 

A green aura encased the trembling teen, slowly lifting him into the air, before tossing him carelessly into a table filled with food. He was desperately clutching his right hand with his left, as if this would do anything to relieve his pain. From the looks of it, Loki had rebuked him rather  _harshly_ when he'd taken it upon himself to touch what didn't belong to him. Despite himself, Tony found himself grinning. 

"Great." Steve frowned. "Loki probably shattered his hand. How the hell are we supposed to explain that one away?"

"Wanda will have a fit." Natasha said lightly, but everyone could sense the darker connotation behind her words. 

They shared a collective shiver at the idea of Wanda using her powers on a (mostly) reformed Loki. It would probably be enough to send him into another destructive binge... and Manhattan was still recovering from the first invasion. 

But Tony couldn't help but feel  _relieved_ as he watched Loki carelessly step over the speedster's fallen body, and remarked rather halfheartedly, "His powers don't require his hands... he'll be fine."

Loki snatched the mug from Tony's hand and downed the rest of the beer in one swallow, grimacing slightly at the awful taste. Tony watched him for a moment, before finally succumbing to his need to touch the other male, and scooping the raven into his arms. Loki practically jumped out of his skin, not expecting such a public display of affection. Such demonstrations were usually saved exclusively for the bedroom. 

"What is the meaning of this, Son of Stark?" Loki bit out roughly, keenly aware of how all eyes in the room had focused on them. 

"You don't know how happy you've just made me." Tony muttered into Loki's collar, his voice muffled by the silken fabric of Loki's moss-green dress shirt. 

Loki raised an eyebrow, looking around at the other Avengers for whatever help they were willing to provide. They were all as clueless as he was. Finally, Loki asked, "Are you drunk, Son of Stark?"

Tony laughed. "No. Just really happy."

"Well, I do not like this newfound happiness." Loki said firmly. "I demand that you become miserable again." Tony just laughed. 

* * *

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Tony curled into the god of mischief's side, he thought about the events of the last two weeks. Perhaps he'd been a tad hasty in assuming that Loki would just throw away everything that they had for a "newer model". Loki, sensing Tony's gaze on him, opened one emerald green eye and looked at him, bemused. 

"Is there something I can do for you?" Loki asked lightly, finally opening both eyes to watch his lover. 

Tony's eyes widened, realization dawning upon him. "You were never actually planning on doing anything with Pietro, were you? You just enjoyed messing with me."

Loki sighed, "It pains me that it took you almost three weeks to realize what was painfully obvious." But then, he smirked, "Though I must say, you were rather adorable, pretending not to be jealous."

"I was not jealous!" Tony denied a bit too quickly. "Bastard."

Loki's smirk became more pronounced. "I am the god of mischief, love."

Tony frowned, but then, slowly, he began to smirk. Loki might've won this battle... but payback was a bitch. 

 

 


End file.
